


The Thrill Of Being Hunted

by FallOutFromGrace



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, My First Smut, Yes this is a WWE fanfic, but also really just barely any smut, don’t judge me cuz youre here reading it, i dig the mask okay, listen I can’t explain it either but this turned out pretty well, the fiend - Freeform, yeah he’s literally all this is about
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:28:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23066248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallOutFromGrace/pseuds/FallOutFromGrace
Summary: Prey will always be prey, regardless if it believes itself to catch a glimpse of courage and bravery before it dies. Regardless if it scratches and makes its killer bleed from the face, a deep wound scarring them and left as a memory. But still, they fight, they raise their arms all the way up to heaven and plead for freedom and forget that their release comes with the price of agony.
Relationships: Bray Wyatt/Original Character(s), Bray Wyatt/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 9





	The Thrill Of Being Hunted

**Author's Note:**

> So, uh. I may have gotten into wrestling some time ago, been catching up since last year, and The Fiend MAY have made a very interesting impact on me. I have no real explanation for this, just take my smut and go.
> 
> I’m unsure if the warning is correct, it refers to some kink depicted in the fic. Overall, I’m incredibly pleased with how this turned out and I hope you are too. Leave me a comment, if there’s any mistakes I would appreciate you pointing them out. Cheers!

Prey will always be prey, regardless if it believes itself to catch a glimpse of courage and bravery before it dies. Regardless if it scratches and makes its killer bleed from the face, a deep wound scarring them and left as a memory. But still, they fight, they raise their arms all the way up to heaven and plead for freedom and forget that their release comes with the price of agony.

So she ran. Stag skull on her head and bellowing cape behind her, her feet hit the ground soundlessly but her heart beat like a drum in her ears. He was closing in on her, heavy footfalls on piles of leaves announcing an ever coming death, while she foolishly attempted to step in between the twigs to try and last a little longer.

But it was as if she had a beacon on her head, the full moon betraying her one last time, and she could see his gruesome face everywhere. His glowing eyes mocking her every move, her breath coming in fast and short and the anxiety running through her veins like poison.

“Fuck you!” She screamed into the night, coming into a clearing in the forest. A deep laughter echoed through the trees, and she turned and whipped herself in circles trying to pinpoint it. Was it there, by the thick fallen oak? Was it by the far berry bushes to her right? Was it behind her, crawling up all sick and distorted?

It was everywhere. It was beneath her, above her, around her, inside her head. She clutched her own forehead, digging her fingers underneath the stag skull to grip her hair. Throwing her head back, she opened her mouth and screamed into the starry night. Panting, lungs empty and body weary, she lowered her head again.

And there he was. Standing a good distance away as if he’d been there all along, waiting for her to finish her outburst.

“Let me in.”

The sound of his voice vibrated all around her, as if coming from nowhere and everywhere all at once.

“Let me in.”

She felt it in her bones, in her chest, in her stomach, in her heart matching her beats.

“Let me in.”

Collapsing on the wet grassy floor, she dug her toes into the earth. Gripping the antlers on the skull, she pulled it over her face and stood herself up, dragging muddy fingers up her legs and thighs. Her cape fell around her like a blanket and she stared him down.

“It doesn’t matter where you go, little doe. My fireflies light the way.”

“I am no doe,” she growled. Around her, fireflies softly buzzed from in between the blades of grass and formed a circle of glowing lights. She stood still, staring at The Fiend right in his masked face and yellowed eyes. He chuckled and took a step forward her. She tensed.

“No. Just to me.”

In a blink, the fireflies disappeared and the light of the moon faded away into black. What should have been a comfort was nothing but a threat, the darkness that was once a welcoming friend aiding her in her escape now a menace.

She held her breath, counting down the seconds to her demise. There was no use running anymore. She had tried fruitlessly the entire night and no number of careful steps and planned escapes was enough. He was still there, ahead of her every single time.

She closed her eyes and slowly exhaled. All that was left to do was let him in. Opening her eyes again, she peered through the eye holes of her stag skull. The forest was long gone, the ground beneath her feet no longer the soft, wet earth. In the dark, she could just barely make out the telling furniture and decorations of the funhouse. Before she could move a muscle, a gloved hand gripped her neck and smacked the back of her head against the wall. She briefly saw stars and squirmed against him, mouth hung open slightly in a gasp.

“Let me in...”

His voice was a whisper now, staring her down. Her fight gone, muscles sore and body exhausted, she relaxed. She swallowed the spit collecting in her mouth, feeling it hurt against his hand as it went down her throat. Briefly letting go of her, he decided to drag his thumb over her mouth underneath the skull, tracing her lips in a soft circle. She was almost surprised to find his skin was soft and not at all coarse like she expected.

She sighed and let her eyelids drop. She couldn’t do it anymore. Not tonight. The hunt was over and she was done for, left to be consumed by the beast that preyed upon her for hours on end. With the last bit of energy left within her, she spoke the words that signed the contract to her demise.

“Okay...”

———

Em’s eyes shot open, waking from her fitful sleep in a blind panic. She smacked the couch she had slept on, unsure of where she was, what had happened, or what was going on. The only thing she could recognize was his voice reverberating through her head, remembering how it traveled from dream through dream and chasing her down like a wolf.

She grabbed her aching head and took a few slow, deep breaths to soothe herself and stop the incoming waves of nausea. It had been every single night for the past week so far, her mind eternally haunted by that damned freak and his alter ego. She couldn’t believe the sheer audacity of him, projecting into her dreams like that. The only thing that made sense to her was one of them had developed an small obsession over the other, and she would rather be dead than admit it was her.

Shaking her head from side to side, Em made her way to the bathroom to splash cool water over her face. What greeted her when she turned on the bright light was a deep bruise adorning her neck in the shape of a hand. She scoffed.

It should have scared her more. It should have shocked her more, how easy it was for him to find her and invade her, but she found herself oddly taken to it, looking at the purple splotched skin with a bit of awe. Not everybody could do what he did, it took years of meditation and training to even so much as escape ones body, but he was a natural. And he’d found her.

She filled the sink and dunk her face in the water for a few seconds. Lifting her head once she was convinced she was awake enough, she buried it into a fluffy towel. There was one thing that did greatly upset her. The woods and the forest had always been her home, no matter where she went or traveled in the material world. The night, the smell of petrichor, the sound of the babbling brook, it was all comforting. He’d tainted that. She no longer looked forward to her dreams, to the astral, to traveling in the skies as her body laid rest.

This week had been brutal in breaking her down. And she officially had last night, when she could not run anymore. He was good at what he did, at letting fear slip into her heart and infect her most precious comfort zones, and a small part of her loved it.

She’d been looking for a thrill amongst her waking life, the grind of the day and the boredom of the night making her itch for a disaster. And she’d begged to her Old Gods to grant her a fight, a good one, to tear her apart at the seams so she could stare at every ugly little thing that lived within her and chop its head off with a sharpened blade. She ached so desperately to grab that hilt and dig it deep in the womb of her demons, let the blood shower her and feel victory.

But she was greeted by no demons of her own, no. Her own demons scattered at the sight of him, leaving her behind in her lonesome. Her old gods were quiet, denying her pleas of power and aid.

It was just her. It was just him.

Tossing the towel into the laundry basket, Em turned on her heel and dug a box from the back of the closet in the hall. The dust had settled upon it rather thick and she felt a pang of guilt hit her. Perhaps a punishment for not following through with her offerings? Who could tell? It had been too long since she donned the stag skull and did her rituals.

Perhaps it was time to start again.

———

“I’m coming with you?”

Em’s eyes opened wide. The contract laid before her was very clear on its words, a welcome change from the usual jumble of legal words and lawyer speak, but she still had to read it through a few times before she fully understood the weight of it. The man before her smiled, big and toothy and disgustingly confident, and nodded.

“Now, I cant give you more than a day, two days tops, to get all your things together, but I promise you it’ll be worth it. Plus, he asked for you by name. You say no, you’re not only giving up a huge opportunity, you’ll be slapping him in the face. Well, metaphorically.”

“Wait, who? I thought you were offering me this to travel along with you and your team.”

He smiled again and rolled his eyes, annoyed by her ignorance. “I thought you two already talked about this,” he said, waving a hand to dismiss her worries, “If not then go and have a word, because you’ll be bunking in for the whole thing.”

Em tried to say something, but she was cut short by her boss’ phone ringing it’s tune. He tapped the small Bluetooth in his ear and tried to rush her out the door.

“Wait, I don’t know who you’re talking about, who do I meet?”

“Are you kidding me? Who else? Bray Wyatt. Now go, unlike you, I still have work to do. Bring me that signed by the end of the day, or don’t and consider yourself on vacation. Or, whatever, just get out of my face, alright?”

The door clicked behind her and she left him to his own devices. The contract in her hands was shooting lightning through her body and she felt nervous. There was no way out of it now. She’d tried avoiding him until she could get herself into a stronger, better footing, but she figured he’d find a way to sneak past it all. Em wasn’t too sure how to feel about it. On the one hand, she’d been wanting a better deal and to travel with the whole group, cement herself into the universe. And to stand besides such a strong and impactful character would skyrocket her.

But on the other...she’d have no way out. No other option but to let him in.

Her heart raced. Putting it off wasn’t for her anyway. Standing tall with her back straight, Em decided to find the ever elusive Jekyll and Hide in her life and put some ink to dry.

———

Bray smiled at her when she opened the door to his room, looking incredibly innocent and acting polite. Em couldn’t help but feel cornered despite how welcoming he appeared.

“I’ve been looking for you for ages,” he said, eyes bright. Em tried to smile back but was sure it turned out more of a sheepish grin than anything else.

“I haven’t gone anywhere but here,” she shrugged.

Bray’s face fell for a second, “You have gone. You’re here now.”

Her grin dropped and she held her breath, but whatever that was, it was over in an instant.

“Look, I’m not sure what you think I can do for you out there, on the stage,” she started, scratching the back of her neck nervously, “but our personas are the complete opposite. I’m an anxious little thing back here, and-“

“I know.”

“And out there, I’m just angry and explosive. You’ve seen me fight.”

“That’s not all you have, though, is it?”

The question stunned her slightly, taking her off guard. She frowned at him, laying the small stack of papers on the table besides her. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve seen what you do, alone in the dark. I know what you wear when nobody else is around. Bring that out.”

Em tried to laugh, but it came out as a scoff. She looked away from him then, finding it hard to meet his eyes. Bray gently turned her head towards him with a finger on her cheek, still smiling.

“What do you know what I do?”

“I know a lot about what you do. I know what you keep in that box in the closet. I know what you’re dying for. Bring it out.”

“And then what?”

“And then you let me in.”

———

Her big reveal was going to be like nothing she could have imagined. The slow build to the hype, the growing tension amongst the other fighters, and the best part was that nobody could tell it was just little old her. Bray was brilliant, and even better was how he’d convinced the team to roll with it and help him.

For a few weeks, in between her usual normal fights, he molded her and she let him. The process torturous, as she put on different faces and lives, testing and tasting each one for what fit and what didn’t. Through it all, she had kept the box sealed, despite Bray’s requests to take the chance.

But the temptation grew to unseal it, to don the antlered head in the field and face her enemies born anew with the flesh of her old god. So despite her hesitation, after a particularly brutal night, Em got her box from her hotel room and knocked on Bray’s door, nose bloody and head swimming.

It clicked open, but nobody seemed to be behind it. With bravery she lacked before, Em pushed it open and walked into the darkness inside.

The room was cold, the only thing lit  
inside was a single white candle. Em closed the door behind her and strode in. She was tired, weary, and exhausted, much akin to the dreams that plagued her during the night. It even felt as if the shadows were closing in on her as she walked up to the little flame and they grew and grew in size.

“You finally brought it. Let’s see it, then.”

Em turned around to find Bray smiling at her. She kept her face straight and pulled out the cardboard lid. Ever so gently and delicately, she pulled out the stag skull mask, grabbing it by the antler.

Bray grinned, “I never thought you’d let me see it in real life.”

“So you admit to invading my dreams, then?”

“Of course. Would anything else be as fitting? Put it on. I want to see it on you.”

Em loosened her long ginger locks from her pony and let it fall over her shoulders. She lifted it and gingerly placed it over her own head, adjusting it so she could see properly. Bray’s grin grew wider, and he approached her. He touched the antlers, keeping note of her reaction.

“You could do wonders with this.”

“It feels wrong.”

“All good things are wrong. Didn’t you feel wrong when you gave yourself to whatever this was? When you decided to worship a twisted creature?”

He dropped both hands on top of her shoulders. Em felt that deer in headlights feeling surge, anxiety filling her up again. Like in her dreams with nowhere to run and nowhere to hide, her heart started beating faster. Bray placed his thumb over her jugular, frowning when he felt her pulse.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

Em coughed to the side, “Nothing, you just make me nervous.”

“Hm. Good,” he said, “You should be nervous.”

“Why?” Em asked then, voice lowered behind the stag skull.

“Because it’s about to get a whole lot wronger.”

He shoved her against the bed, the candle’s flame flickering from the sudden move. Em felt the air get knocked out of her lungs then and tried to take a deep breath, but his hand covered her mouth before she had the chance.

“Two things,” he said, his voice growing deeper, “If you don’t want to go through with this, say so. I’ll stop. We’ll both go our own ways. Nobody gets hurt.”

“And the second?” She asked, sounding muffled. She realized his hold wasn’t as rough or hard as she initially assumed.

“Don’t scream.”

———

The night finally arrived. Through thick smoke, she emerged on the stage. Her moves were fluid, smooth, and hard hitting, and when they weren’t, her idle manner disoriented her opponent. And with The Fiend standing ringside, it was no wonder she was fueled to the brim with lust for power. Her victory came as a surprise to no one.

No, what did come as a surprise was when it was her face that appeared from underneath the gruesome skull mask, it’s antlers newly adorned with little fireflies that had glowed with her until she removed it for the fight.

Once done, feeling the win in every inch of herself, she put it back on and wrapped herself in the cape, and left, The Fiend and his lantern following suit in silence. They both turned a few heads, keeping character as they left the stadium and made it back to their hotel, and all the while that one night kept running through her head and how she had been completely transformed under his touch.

His words had never left her mind. After she’d agreed to it all, he asked her what she wanted to be called.

“The Horned Queen,” she responded. Bray had chuckled, speaking for the last time that night, “You’d still be my little doe.”

The rest of it turned into a blur, leaving her with an innumerable amount of questions and a lack of answers from the curious Wyatt, but she didn’t press it. Whatever it was had turned her full fledged into her persona, and she loved it. She wanted more. She didn’t want to take off her mask and go back to herself just yet, she wanted to push that limit just a little more.

She followed him to his hotel room. Bray only turned slightly, looking at her with the yellow-red eyes of The Fiend, before he slid his keycard into the slot. A green little LED lit, and he turned the handle, going in first and leaving it open for her.

Em didn’t have the chance to close the door herself. She stepped through the threshold and The Fiend immediately pushed her against the back of the door by the neck, shutting it closed.

“We’ve been here before,” he said, tightening his grip on her throat. Em blinked a few times. Instead of feeling fear and dread, a rush went through her and gave her goosebumps. She didn’t fight it this time around, a sickly sweet sensation pooling between her legs when he tucked his free hand underneath the skull to cup her cheek. He traced circles on her skin and pressed his forehead to hers.

“I can’t seem to resist coming after you,” he growled, “I don’t want to stop chasing you. You’re like honey, and I’m dying to dip my fingers in you.”

“Then don’t stop chasing me,” Em responded in a blissful breath, tightening her legs, “Hunt me down.”

“Oh, little doe...You’ve been hunted long ago. Now’s the part where I get to sink my teeth and taste your blood.”

The hand that cupped her cheek started to trace a line down her throat, in between her breasts, to finally rest upon her crotch. She tried to swallow, tried to look away and get a grip of herself, but she kept getting lost in his intense stare.

“What does your blood taste like?” He dragged a single digit over her skin tight, black, spandex shorts, watching her squirm in delight. They’d been building this up for what felt like ages now, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife, and it was all coming together to this one moment. It hurt her so bad, being unable to give in immediately. He took the lead wonderfully, and it all went according to his timing, never letting go of control for even a split second.

“What does yours?” She asked back. She could just make out his eyes crinkling underneath the latex mask and saw his teeth through the hole in The Fiend’s mouth.

“Good answer.”

Bray let go of her neck and gave her a moment to recover, briefly seeing stars cloud her vision. He bent down just a little to wrap his arms around her waist and lift her up. Her feet hanging uselessly, Em blushed. This almost felt loving, in an odd, unnatural way, a caring touch, as he carried her towards the bed in the room. The moonlight came in streams through the curtain, the only light source she had, and it made him look all the more intimidating. And she loved it.

He put her down on the middle of the bed and half crawled above her. The way he pressed his forehead against her own for the second time that night made Em wonder if he was dying to kiss her but didn’t want to shatter the act. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, gently urging her to lay completely back against the mattress. Bray left little wet patches of skin as he lowered himself further down, licking bits here and there and earning soft sighs from the horned woman.

Em was turning into putty. She felt him dig his fingers into the waistband of her bottoms and tug on them, pulling them ever so slowly down her legs until she was fully exposed to him down below. A puff of his breath on her womanhood shocked her back to reality. She tried to sit up, feeling a little panicked at how close he was and how naked she was, but he slammed her back down.

“Relax...” he said, peering up at her, “You’ve already been hunted. You’re already mine. I want to claim you fully.”

Em watched him stick his tongue out the mask’s mouth, and lower himself to her most sensitive spot. She gripped the bedsheets, letting out a small little whimper for him. Bray grabbed her legs, placing them over his shoulders, and buried his tongue in her. Em shivered, unable to tear her eyes from The Fiend, feeling her heart beat just like in her dreams when she couldn’t escape him.

“So sweet,” he muttered, a trail of spit connecting her and his lips, “But I want something sweeter.”

He laid her legs down and crawled up her again, ripping her top to free her chest from the bindings. He licked a perky nipple, getting a few more gasps, but it didn’t seem enough for him. It was too kind, too gentle, and not rough enough, it wasn’t harsh enough, it wasn’t painful enough.

“Hurt me,” she asked. Bray cocked his head to the side, unsure of her expression as it hid behind her own mask.

“I won’t stop.”

“I don’t want you to. You always stop before it gets good in my dreams, it’s time we finish what’s been started.”

“You’ll have bruises.”

“I want bruises.”

“You’ll get scared.”

“I’m already scared.”

Bray laughed then, loud and filling the eerily quiet room. “You’re a strange little doe,” he mumbled, grabbing the skull off her head and revealing her face finally. He placed it gingerly on the night table, aware of its emotional importance to her, and cupped her face again, “I don’t want you to run from me after tonight. I can’t take the risk of harming you.”

“Just a little?” She begged. Bray slipped his thumb between her lips, and she greedily sucked on it.

“Maybe a little,” he agreed, “If you’re sure about it.”

Em eagerly nodded, and he pulled his thumb out of her mouth with a pop.

“Will you be a good little doe?” He asked her, placing a hand over her shoulder.

“Yes.”

In a flash, Bray forcefully flipped her over so she laid on her stomach. Em didn’t have the chance to think before she felt his teeth dig into the space between her neck and her shoulder, biting hard enough to leave marks. She screamed as pain shot through her, and she felt that panicked, adrenaline rush again. It made her all the more excited, eager for more of his touch, aching to have them join together and get it over with already. Her patience had been tested to the limit.

Bray pulled back, admiring the purple marks on her previously unmarred skin. Em buried her face into the bedsheets and panted a bit. Her throat felt raw, but she felt it wouldn’t be the last time she would use it tonight. He rubbed the back of her head softly, before digging his fingers through her hair and gripping it tight. He pulled, bending her head back and getting a low growl from the woman, who gritted her teeth.

“Little doe...” he murmured, hand back between her legs and feeling how wet she had become, “How much do you want to suffer? How much will it take to get you to beg?”

He inserted a finger into her, making her toes curl. Pumping in and out ever so slowly, his grip tightened on her hair and he pulled on it harder. Em let out a soft moan, her eyes rolling into the back of her head for a moment. She couldn’t think of an answer, her thoughts coming and going like waves. All that stuck out in her mind was his voice, chasing her down the forest in her dreams and surrounding her without an escape.

The man was no man when he donned the mask, loosing whatever he had of Bray behind The Fiend and dropping his victims like moths to a flame. She toyed the idea that she was mistakenly still thinking of him as Bray even now, and realized she’d waltzed right into his trap. It had been so obvious. Wrapping her up in his spider’s web, kneading her into a perfect vessel, it was never Bray and never had been Bray, and, even now, it wasn’t Bray.

As if sensing her thoughts, he suddenly pushed her head down and pressed his mouth against her ear. She grinned. Her old god had granted her the favor she longed for, the adventure and thrill and the break of her daily life. She had never been left on her lonesome, waiting for her prayers to be answered. She got them. And the cost was becoming apparent.

“Do you know why I picked you?” He asked, pressing his finger against her neck to feel her quickened pulse. He pressed his entire body against her back, pinning her in place, “Because I knew you wouldn’t resist me either.”

He positioned himself between her legs. Em swallowed the lump forming in her throat and tried to reach for something to grab, anything to stop the feeling of floating away and loosing all her control. She wanted it so bad, she wanted to sink, but it scared her at the same time to give herself so completely and let go. A hand suddenly covered her own, threading it’s fingers between hers and giving them a squeeze. Em stared at their conjoined hands and sighed. That was all she needed.

A long, deep, throaty moan escaped her lips when he sunk deep into her, feeling the relief of a desire finally being fulfilled. Her mouth felt dry and she panted a little, grabbing his hand back tight and feeling him bury his face in the crook of her neck again. He set a gruesome pace, going all the way out and all the way in to the hilt, filling every inch of her. Em wanted to beg already, but she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction just yet. In due time, yes, but not so soon.

He seemed to break his pace occasionally, suffering to keep his self restraint in check. Em took note of this, keeping her head as focused as she could considering everything, and found the gap in his control to buck him off her. This shocked him, not only not expecting her to actually push him out and off of her, but also seemed slightly concerned for a split second before getting back into his character and attempting to reach for her again.

Em pushed him onto his back and crawled on top, situating herself above his cock and sliding it inside her again. The change in position gave them an entire new world to discover out of each other, and The Fiend quickly grabbed her hips and helped her grind down on him better. He felt so big it was driving her insane and holding her own orgasm back was almost a superhuman feat on its own. But she still couldn’t beg him. Not yet.

Looking down at his masked face, Em felt half disturbed half thrilled to find he hardly blinked, keeping his eyes on her face and the way it expressed varying degrees of ecstasy. She placed her hands flat on his chest and really swirled her hips around him, finally earning a delicious groan from the man. She smirked and did it again, getting the same response but this time getting him to briefly close his eyes and throw his head back onto the pillows.

She went for a third time, only to find him stare at her wide eyed and flip them around. Her back hit the mattress and again had the air knocked out of her lungs, a feeling she was becoming more and more familiar with. He lifted her legs up and positioned them over his shoulders, and fucked her even deeper than before.

Em scrambled to cover her mouth, but he gripped her wrists so tight she expected bruises to come out. And still, he looked at her unblinking as she squirmed and tried to escape his grasp and failed. It was torture trying to hold herself back, and he was loving it. The Fiend grabbed her cheeks with one hand and forced her to face him as he fucked her raw.

“Cum.” He ordered, sending shivers through her body. She tried to say no, but he stuck his fingers in her mouth, “Cum.”

The telltale tightening in her lower regions started to betray her demands, building up higher and higher as he went faster and harder. She sucked and licked his fingers until he pulled them out and went back to her throat, choking her. Em grabbed at his wrist and tried to pry him off, but her looming orgasm was making it hard to focus on anything other than pleasure.

“Cum,” he said, deeper and sounding angry. He tightened his hand around her throat just a little more, and suddenly she was cumming. Her pussy tightened around his dick and she wailed so loud, their entire floor would have been a little too familiar with their antics by now. He kept their eyes locked onto each other, watching her pupils dilate and her entire body spasm, almost laughing at the way she feebly attempted to close her legs while he was still between them.

“Good little doe...” he whispered, riding out her orgasm. Before she went fully limp, he quickened his own pace to reach his own peak, spilling his cum deep inside and still looking deep into her eyes.

Both of them spent, tired, sweaty, and done, Bray collapsed besides her. He attempted to take in a few deep breaths through the mask before he grew annoyed and pulled it off, letting it fall on the floor.

Em laughed. Bray pawed the bed until he found her hand and gave it a squeeze.

“We’re, uh...” Em mumbled, getting her senses back and realizing everything that had happened, “We’re kind of fucked up.”

“Yeah,” Bray laughed, sounding friendly and, for the first time since they’d met, normal. “But would you have it any other way?”

“Fuck no, I needed this. I needed you.”

Em stretched her arms up as far as she could. Exhaustion was creeping up on her, the fight and it’s aftermath all taking a toll on her poor body.

“Hm,” he said softly, “what comes now?”

Em wasn’t sure how to answer that question it had all come up to a grand climax, in more ways than one, and she realized she’d never stopped to wonder what could come next for them both, outside of their contractual obligated work. They were officially teamed up and planned to take the world by Storm one match at a time, each on their own side, but personally? Here, right now? She didn’t know.

“What do you want it to be?” She asked.

Bray never answered that question. He kicked off his boots and helped her strip off the rest of her clothes. Pulling her close, they left their words for the coming morning. It could wait. For now, she’d enjoy the first dream in a long time where she had true reign of her forest again. Only this time, the voice in the shadows was easier to reach than it had been before.

Em wiggled in place under the covers until she faced him. His eyes were already closed and his breathing was starting to relax and slow down. In the quiet of the night, she placed a small kiss on the corner of his mouth right before he fell into a slumber. They didn’t need to share their dreams anymore.

All she had to do was keep letting him in.


End file.
